in the days of Nero. Regulus thought I bore him malice for this, and so
he did not invite me when he read his pamphlet. Besides, he remembered
that he once mortally attacked me in the Court of the Centumviri.

I was a witness on behalf of Arionilla, the wife of Timon, at the
request of Rusticus Arulenus, and Regulus was conducting the
prosecution. We on our side were relying for part of the defence on a
decision of Metius Modestus, an excellent man who had been banished by
Domitian and was at that moment in exile. This was Regulus's
opportunity. "Tell me, Secundus," said he, "what you think of
Modestus." You see in what peril I should have placed myself if I had
answered that I thought highly of him, and how disgraceful it would have
been if I had said that I thought ill of him. I fancy it must have been
the gods who came to my rescue. "I will tell you what I think of him,"
I said, "when the Court has to give a decision on the point." He
returned to the charge: "My question is, what do you think of
Modestus?" Again I replied: "Witnesses used to be interrogated about
persons in the dock, not about those who are already convicted." A
third time he asked: "Well, I won't ask you now what you think of
Modestus, but what you think of his loyalty." "You ask me," said I,
"for my opinion. But I do not think it is in order for you to ask an
opinion on what the Court has already passed judgment." He was
silenced, while I was congratulated and praised for not having smirched
my reputation by giving an answer that might have been discreet but
would certainly have been dishonest, and for not having entangled myself
in the meshes of such a crafty question.

Well, now the fellow is conscience-stricken, and buttonholes first
Caecilius Celer and then implores Fabius Justsus to reconcile me to him.
Not content with that, he makes his way in to see Spurinna, and begs and